Sometimes it's Enough
by Applelicious
Summary: [repost] A closer look at Warren. [oneshot] Old acccount got deleted...PEACE challenge entry.


Repost, deleted all my work…all of it…sigh

Disclaimer: Nope still do not own anything Sky High.

A/N: Hum, I'm not sure this qualifies as disturbing in any way, but oh well; I just thought I'd enter it in the contest anyway. This is a little different from my usual genre, so tell me what you think.

Sometimes it's Enough

Warren grabbed plates here and there as quickly as he could. Glasses needed to be refilled and tables cleared. It had been a long night already, yet the workload did not seem to be decreasing.

After putting some dishes away in the back, he took a minute to breathe. Working as a busboy was no easy task and Warren was getting tired of doing it. Smiling non-stop to idiots as they asked for Sushi in a Chinese restaurant was not his vocational calling. But he needed the money; the bills weren't going to pay themselves.

His hands were warming up. Feeling the anger beginning to build up in his chest, he took another breath to calm himself. He could remember the first time his mother had told him that she would be working late, he'd been six and unable to understand why she would want to stay at work more than stay with him. He'd been still too young to understand that his father had fucked up and that because of it no one would hire his mother and give her "superhero" work. He'd been too young to understand why his father no longer came through the door of his bedroom at night to kiss him on the forehead while he pretended to sleep.

But that was a long time ago. Reality had set in and shattered any childish fantasies of a happy family he'd ever held. His mom was working double shifts at a nearby supermarket just so that they could get by every month, but it wasn't enough. He tried his best, but sometimes even one's best isn't enough.

"Warren, hurry up! We need you in the front," called out the manager, a petite Asian woman with graying hair.

"I'm coming," he shouted, trying to make himself heard above the noises coming from the kitchen. The energy had been building up in his arms while he took his trip down memory lane. He needed to get rid of it before going back to work, somehow, or he might accidentally burn the whole place to a crisp. So, Warren turned around and asked the cook if he needed help igniting the ovens.

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_Sometimes caring is enough._

_Layla looked at the dark haired boy from across the cafeteria. He was sitting alone again, so she decided she would go keep him company._

_It didn't matter that people stared as she sat across from the boy; she cared about this boy but didn't know how to help him. Because that's what he needed, help._

_He tore his gaze from his novel, "A Tale of Two Cities," to look at her. He smiled the sardonic smile he always did whenever she came to him, as if to say, "you'll never learn."_

_But that didn't matter, because she knew better. Warren had a tough outer shell and that was all it was. Inside he was a hurt little boy who had been forced to grow up too fast. She knew this because she'd taken the time to become his friend. She'd taken the time to look beyond his "bad ass" exterior and name. _

_Layla just wish others would take the time to do the same. Didn't anyone pay attention to those lessons they received in kindergarten about not judging before knowing and treating others like you'd want to be treated?_

_She could see that it hurt him when a freshman stared as he went by or how a how everyone would just stop talking whenever he walked in a room. He'd never admit to it or even complain about it, but she could see it._

Although sometimes, she could see that he was glad she sat with him at lunch, and for now that was enough… 

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Warren looked around the restaurant and sighed. It was as almost full, which meant that he'd be home late, again. Which also meant that he wouldn't have time to see his mother before she went to work, again.

He cleared more plates asking, once in a while, if someone needed a refill.

Warren had learned early on that only the strong survived. So, he'd become strong and embraced the solitude that was imposed on him rather than scorned it. And he'd done well for himself, at least as well as his name would allow him to. But sometimes he wondered what could have been if his father hadn't turned "to the dark side." He wondered if he'd be like other superheroes' kids. Would he be content with this world and impossibly naïve thinking that it was good? Possibly, but he could never go back to thinking like that now.

He knew better.

The world was an ugly place to someone like him. It doesn't shine with hope and joy as some are led to believe.

It burns.

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_Sometimes friendship is enough._

_Will saw Warren sitting on the steps in front of the school, alone, as always. So he went to the other boy and sat with him._

_Warren had seen him approaching and was nodding nonchalantly as greeting._

_Neither spoke, but no words were needed between them. Will had learned to read his friend as well as the latter had learned to read him._

_They were the recipients of many questioning looks. The Commander and Jetstreams' son sitting with the Baron's son? An unlikely pair, if nothing else. Will's father was as a famous superhero and as Warren's father was an infamous villain. But somehow, they could understand one another better than anyone else could._

_Trying to live with their father's reputation was something they had privately bonded over more than a few times. Will had a hard time living up to people's expectations of him, which was why being friends with Warren was so easy, he didn't think much of the Stronghold legend, understandably so. His friend didn't expect him to be more than anyone else, and he liked that, being treated like the average person._

_Sometimes, Will felt bad about what his father did to Warren's because he could see the strain it had put on the other boy and his mother. But nothing could be done about it now, "what's done is done."_

All he could do was stay by Warren's side if he ever needed, even though the latter didn't seem like he'd ever need it, but that was enough...

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Warren stood by the back door of the paper lantern for a long deserved break. He leaned against the wall, resting his head against it. The crowd inside was finally beginning to lessen in size.

Sweat was trickling down his forehead from standing in the heat of the kitchen for so long and he was tired. The restaurant would be closing soon and he'd finally be able to go home. Home. That was a nice thought, too bad all that waited for him there was an empty apartment.

He wondered what it would be like to go home to a family, to be able to sleep in on Saturdays, instead of working here, about so many things. He didn't like what-ifs but there were times when he couldn't help but wonder about what could have been, yet never was.

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_Sometimes being honest is enough._

Ethan looked about the cafeteria and spotted his friends easily. He marched towards them without hesitation and sat down next to Warren Peace.

_Warren Peace._

_The sound of that name had once caused fear to course through every fiber of his being, but thinking back on it now, his friend had never done much to warrant that fear. Except for that fight with Will, Warren had pretty much kept to himself. Ethan was glad he'd been given the chance to get to know him better._

_The guy didn't say much, about anything. But some things don't need to be said for you to know that they're there. They considered Warren their friend, but he knew that it made the loner rather uncomfortable. Ethan could see that Warren sometimes didn't know how to act around them, wasn't used to having anyone around._

_"You know Warren, you're not bad, not bad at all," he'd once told the pyrokenetic. The latter hadn't commented on what had been said, only smiled and shook his head, but that was enough…_

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The last customer had finally left around eleven thirty. It was time to close shop and clean up. Warren threw a towel over his shoulder as he picked up some glasses and put them in a cleaning tray. A few more minutes and he'd be free from this place.

He could see his bed waiting for him like a long lost lover, but that wouldn't be happening for a while yet. He still had homework at home that needed to be done.

If had been up to him he'd have stopped going to Sky High to go to a vocational school or even normal high school instead, that way he'd be able to get a real job when he got out. But his mother wanted him to become a superhero. Like anyone would want to be saved by him.

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_Sometimes just listening is enough._

Magenta sat down next to Warren in P.E. knowing that no one would ask her to join in "save the citizen." After all, she was the girl who could shapeshift into a single little purple guinea pig and could not even manage "a swarm of guinea pigs."

_He barely acknowledged her presence when she sat down, but then again he rarely paid attention to anything that happened. That was okay; there were times when she shut out the world to stay sane too. _

_She liked Warren enough. It was easier to talk to him than to anyone else at times. Unlike others, he wouldn't try to comfort you, try to give you useless advice, or pretend that he understood what you were going through; he'd just listen._

_She couldn't claim to have a lot in common with him, like Will did, but they were very similar in many ways. They were both cynical about the world, of course his cynicism stemmed from being hated for who his father was, while hers came from being constantly due to her lack of power, but still, they could understand one another like no one else in the group._

_It was her he came to for answers when he wanted someone who would listen or when he wanted the truth, instead of some meaningless words coated with sugar from someone who couldn't even phantom what goes on in the mind of a superteenager. And that was enough…_

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Warren was walking down the street to his apartment a box of leftovers in hand; he'd always believed that it was a sin to waste food when so many were hungry. His day finally over, he walked by the park and gave the box to a man he knew needed it more than he did.

Having done what he'd come to do, he began his trek home once more; lingering for a few seconds to look at the playground he'd once called his second home. His father used to take him; the memories were vague now, but the feeling was still there.

Warren tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he missed his father. Whatever sins the man had committed, Warren couldn't hate him because he'd always been a good father to him.

It was late, and he needed to get home. So he walked on.

Lately is seemed like that was all he was doing. Walking. Going here and there with no real purpose because he was too busy trying to stay sane to do anything else. He was stuck on survival mode and he knew it, yet couldn't do anything about it.

He stopped in front of his apartment door and reached for his keys. Once inside he flicked the lights on and sighed, he would finally be able to get a little rest. Or at least he would as soon as he finished doing his schoolwork and had cleaned up the place.

On the way to his bedroom he paused to look over a picture Layla had given him. It was group picture, with him and the rest of the "sidekicks" plus Will were in it. He didn't remember when it was taken, but he did remember that he'd been suckered into posing for it.

He looked old. A lot older than the rest of them.

Warren found himself smiling ruefully as he stared at the picture a while longer. The world was far from perfect. The people in it far from understanding. But he had a few good friends now, even if he had reluctantly become part of the group, and that was enough.

A/N: Review people, should I adopt this genre more often? Anyway, I was going to put Zach in, but I didn't feel like I knew his character enough to do him justice…Not that I understand the other characters that well, but hopefully my mastery of it was good enough.


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